One Day
by SusanSzemogh
Summary: How is Landon doing 10 years after Jamie's dead? Not bad, but not fine, either.


**Chapter 14**

It had been years since Jamie's dead, but it still felt to me like she was alive, and had to die every day. Each morning I woke up expecting to see her wake next to me. Not even 10 years could erase or wipe away the need and the hope I had to see her beside me.  
Now I kept a photograph of her in my nightstand, so I could see her first thing in the morning when I woke up, but it was a long time before I could bring myself to put it there. I tried to do it the first night I spent without her, but I couldn't. I couldn't see her for a long time, but she was everywhere. She was in the stars, in the Church, in our kitchen, in the drawers of our room, in the golden ring placed around my finger. She was everywhere. She still is.

I wanted to tear myself apart, to scream, to shout, to brake things, to knock the portraits off the walls.  
I had to suffocate my sobs in my pillow, I cried asking for help, for a reason of why this had happened to us. To her. I still hadn't got an answer, and I'm starting to wonder if I ever will.

I swear I tried to move on, to get rid of my anger. I try every day, it's a constant battle I have to fight every morning when I wake, and every evening when I sleep.  
I swear I try. I know it's what she'd want me to do. She'd be expecting me to be happy, to follow her way, to remember what she had taught me about forgiveness, about not asking for a reason, about trusting Him.  
I try. But it's so hard. It's so hard it hurts.

And everything in my life is wonderful. If she were here, if she just were still with me, everything would be perfect.

Because I had just graduated from Medical School, and my job was the best in the world. I saved people. I could tell their relatives, "Don't worry, kiddo. Your mom's gonna be alright". Or I could help them bare the pain it brings when I can't save their family. "Don't worry, she's fine now. She's with Him". And I told this to myself, too, every day.

And it helped a little. It actually did. I knew she was in Heaven, and she was happy. She had finally get what she'd wanted all her life. I knew that by then she was probably God's best friend already. And I'm sure that she and her mom had finally met, and that Jamie was surely thrilled by it.

I was also getting along with my dad. We talked every day. Whenever he was in town, we would meet. He always asked me how I was doing, and he spoke to me about politics and baseball. I had finally got to know him, and he got to know me. All thanks to Jamie. My Jamie.

And I talked to Hegbert, too. He was in a retirement home, and I knew he didn't have much time left. He had already survived more than everyone expected. I'm not saying this in a bad way, don't get me wrong. It's just that, well... He didn't have anyone to live for anymore, if you know what I mean. He only had me. He didn't have his daughter to keep him alive anymore.  
And we didn't get along much, but we needed each other. We needed someone who understood what it was like to miss Jamie the way each other did. Because even if she was missed by the entire city, even if her tomb was always filled with flowers from anonymous people, no one understood. Not the way me and Hegbert did.

And I had the kids in the orphanage. I spent most of my free time with them. They were all my sons and daughters. Most of the ones that got to know Jamie were already grown-ups, and weren't in the orphanage anymore. They were either adopted or had found their way into the world in their own. But they still looked for me, and I for them. A lot of them went to me for advice, or just to talk. I was like their big brother. I hoped one day I could get to meet their sons and daughters, too. Because they were the biggest and most important part of my life right now.

My life was almost perfect. It was simple, full of love and hope. I looked forward to the afternoons spent with the kids, to the midday call from Mom and Dad. I helped Hegbert write some of the sermons he preached in the retirement home, and I even enjoyed it. I read The Bible Jamie had given me that one Christmas, the first one we spent together, and learnt from it every day.

But I was still sad. A part of me always was. The part of me that had to wait years before it looked at Jamie's photograph and didn't cry. The part of me that tied my throat into a real tight knot when I looked at the stars and realized Jamie wasn't by my side.  
Because Jamie was still present, and we still loved each other as much as we ever could, but she wasn't with me. She was gone. Jamie was gone for good. And the feeling of sadness that came with that thought, with that fact, would never, ever, leave me alone. But it was OK.  
Because one day, one fine, glorious day, we would meet again. And everything would be alright once again. One day.


End file.
